Don Lorenzo. Yes.
Doña Ángela. And cry it to the world from the housetops.
Don Lorenzo. I will announce it.
Doña Ángela. And leave us in poverty.
Don Lorenzo. I will earn your bread and my own by my work.
Doña Ángela. You earn your bread! Scholar's vanity! Well, be it so, but listen to me first. If it should be that we really have no right to our wealth, give it up,—well and good. [Don Lorenzo bursts into a cry of delight and advances to her with outstretched arms.] Privations do not fright me, nor am I the miserable woman and egoist you painted erewhile.
Don Lorenzo. Ángela, my dear wife, forgive me.
Doña Ángela. Do you want my forgiveness? Do you want me to continue blessing the hour I became your wife, as I have always blessed it till to-day?
Don Lorenzo. Yes.
Doña Ángela. Then do your duty as a man of honour, but in silence, prudently, without ostentation, or noise, or scandal.